Raise Your Glass
by frakkingblerg
Summary: a ridiculous bar night, in (belated) honor of St. Patrick's day. Sharon/Brenda established.


**a belated drinking special, in honor of St. Patrick's Day. set to the tune of P!nk's _'Raise Your Glass'_**

"Good evening, Chief," Sharon practically purred, entering the blonde's office and rounding the corner to place a quick kiss on her girlfriend's lips. Normally she wasn't so cavalier about public displays of affection, especially during business hours. But she'd noted the absence of Brenda's entire squad as she'd entered Major Crimes, so it seemed for a moment the coast was clear.

"Hello to you too, Shar," flirted the younger woman, pulling Sharon into her lap for a proper kiss. After a few rather heated moments, they broke away, not wanting to test fate too much. Will Pope was known to pop up at the most inopportune times to chat. Regretfully, the brunette extracted herself from Brenda's arms and seated herself on the edge of the younger woman's desk.

"Have any plans this evening? I just finished up my paperwork, so I was thinking we could grab a late dinner?" While they'd spent essentially every weekend together for the past three months of dating (and one month prior of what Brenda called 'courting'), this was still their Friday evening routine. The brunette didn't want to come across as needy or dependent and she wanted the younger woman to feel there weren't expectations surrounding weekend activities. Occasionally they needed a break from each other, albeit those instances were becoming fewer. But this evening, after the shit show of a week FID had incurred, Sharon was especially hopeful that the Chief was interested in spending the entire weekend together, mostly in bed - but she'd be willing to negotiate a few other low-key activities.

"Can't. But I was hopin' maybe you'd be interested in goin' out with me and the guys for a drink?" Brenda saw a flash of disappointment in the older woman's face. She knew the brunette's last few days had been a nightmare. The LAPD had been pretty trigger-happy and she'd barely seen her girlfriend until the wee hours of the morning, if she'd seen her at all. But she'd promised the guys a round of drinks if they'd wrapped up their double homicide before 5pm (the possibility of free booze was enough to light a fire under the ass of any Major Crimes detective), hoping it would give her the entire weekend free to just breathe and enjoy 48 hours of domestic bliss with Sharon.

"Are you sure that's really a good idea? I know I'm not exactly the wicked witch anymore, but I'm not so sure anyone will be interested in seeing me outside of the office…" Besides wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed with her favorite pair of ratty sweatpants, a huge glass of Pinot Nior, and that ridiculous blonde, Sharon didn't ever feel particularly welcomed by any member of Brenda's team. Well besides Tao, but she wasn't sure he counted. While they weren't downright rude to her, especially after the Goldman settlement, it was pretty obvious her presence was still foreign and disconcerting to say the least.

"They've known about us for over a month now, baby. I'm sure after a couple of shots they'll warm right up. And if not, we can always order'em to play nice." Brenda grabbed for the older woman's hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. She knew for a fact that once her boys met the real Sharon, not that silly Captain Raydor façade she sported at work, they'd understand exactly what Brenda saw, what she'd fallen in love with.

"Knowing isn't exactly the same…" the older woman deadpanned, clearly less than amused.

"Is someone worried no one's gonna like them? Or are you just scared we're gonna drink you under the table?" The blonde couldn't help but shoot Sharon a challenging smirk, she couldn't resist the dare.

"Brenda Leigh, I think we both know exactly who can out-drink who in this relationship…"

"That was _one time_ and I told you all I'd eaten was a couple Reese's cups for lunch. Please go baby, _please_. I was lookin' forward to spendin' the entire weekend with you," Brenda pouted, fully aware of her quivering lip's effect on the older woman.

"_Fine_, I'll go," exclaimed the brunette. What was one drink amongst (sort of, but not really) friends?

"Good, cuz I wasn't gonna stop pesterin' you till you said yes anyway." The older woman rolled her eyes and let out a huff, Brenda was absolutely adorable and simultaneously annoying. Thankfully, the adorable usually trumped everything else.

"So how much more time do you need to finish this?" questioned the brunette, gesturing toward the mountain of paperwork currently littering the Chief's desk.

"I'm about done, I can finish the rest come Monday. I already sent the guys ahead to grab a table, so I'll meet you downstairs?"

"Sounds good."

25 minutes later they pulled into the parking lot outside O'Brien's Pub. Initially the boys had suggested one of their standard cop bars, but Brenda had persuaded them to try a civilian establishment. She knew how infrequently Sharon partook in after work activities and how uncomfortable she was around large groups of LAPD officers, considering her position as Head of FID. Even though no officer would dare be anything but civil, she never looked forward to the whispers or sidelong glances, assuming she was performing some sort of undercover hall monitoring program.

Sharon allowed the blonde to enter first and find the guys, following close behind. The pub seemed pretty standard for LA, dark stained wood booths, a variety of Irish flags and memorabilia hanging from the walls. Even though it was still early, the bar was packed. At some point, Brenda reached out for her hand, attempting to keep the tidal wave of patrons from sucking either in. The Chief shot up her free arm, motioning at a round booth in the corner. _Perfect_, they'd been spotted. Ducking through a crowd of barely legal UCLA students, Sharon noted the look of confusion and dread on the men's faces. She rolled her eyes inwardly and prepared for a long, awkward evening playing third wheel to the love affair that was Major Crimes.

"Hey Chief! And I see you brought Captain Raydor…" Gabriel would never understand how they'd gotten together, considering their initial spats were still regarded as legend amongst the LAPD.

"Well I'm sure y'all heard about FID's week, I figured Sharon could use a drink." Brenda scooted into the booth, allowing Sharon a seat on the end.

"Or five from what I hear," quipped Provenza, raising his beer in a mock salute.

"Well since we're all here now, round of tequila shots on me." Sánchez motioned for Gabriel and they headed toward the bar.

Brenda has surpassed buzzed two drinks ago and was now careening dangerously close to full on wasted. After Sanchez's tequila shots, she'd paid up and bought the team their next round. Forever the gentlemen, her boys hadn't allowed either woman's glass to run dry. She'd lost track after awhile, assuming she'd consumed at least a bottle of Merlot. Sharon seemed to be enjoying herself, if the giddy grin that was almost constantly splayed across her face was any indication. It probably helped that the Captain was a few vodka soda's deep.

"Alright gentleman –oh, _and ladies_, I'm getting the next round. I hear they've got a great boot special." Provenza also wasn't one to partake in many of these case closing drinking nights. When he did attend, he expected the drinks to flow and the squad to stumble out to Flynn's car. Call him old-fashioned, but back in his day, when detectives went out to party, they did it right. There was no half-assing when Louie Provenza was supplying the drinks.

"A _boot special_? Brenda Leigh, what is Provenza talking about?" Sharon had known the older man for the better part of 15 years, so naturally she was a little frightened at the thought of his next great idea.

"Dunno, but I guess we'll find out."

5 minutes later, Provenza (with help from the bartender) returned with a handful of oversized glass beer boots. Sharon felt her mouth drop, there had to be at least a half-gallon of brown liquid in each.

"You scared, Shar?" Brenda noted the look of surprise that momentarily flashed across the older woman's face, and she couldn't help but tease.

"Not a chance," proclaimed the brunette, grabbing for one of the boot's filled with a lighter colored, amber beer. Seeing an opportunity, even through her buzzed haze, she decided to raise the stakes. Hopefully her Irish roots and solid tolerance wouldn't fail her this evening. Not to mention, this could gain her a little respect amongst that very cliquey team. "How about we make a little bet…anyone interested?"

"A bet, Captain?" Tao didn't like where this was heading. Drunk Captain Raydor was even more intimidating than her office persona. He much preferred that rigid demeanor, at least you knew what you were in for.

"Shut up Tao, let the woman talk," nagged Provenza, leaning in closer and clearly interested in whatever the brunette had in mind.

"I was just thinking, whoever was able to finish this first should get something for their efforts."

"I like the way you think, Captain." Sánchez glanced around the room, eyeing up the competition. Obviously he had this in the bag. Tao was a pansy when it came to drinking, preferring a cosmopolitan to beer. Gabriel still lived at home and his parents weren't too keen on allowing him more than one after work drink. Provenza in his heyday may have given Julio a run for his money, but seemed less of a threat in his advanced age. Of course there was the Chief and Captain, but neither weighed more than 100 pounds soaking wet, it was hard to believe either would be able to polish off almost two liters of beer before he did.

"So what are we playing for," questioned Gabriel, eyeing the brunette suspiciously.

"Winners choice," Sharon cooly responded, knowing exactly what she'd request if she could somehow manage to drink the entire contents of the boot without puking.

"I don't know if this is a good idea, guys…."

"Flynn, you're here to drive the bus – not play hall monitor."Provenza smacked his partner on the arm, now wasn't the time for his AA antics.

"I'm in," announced the blonde, shooting the older woman a playful smirk. It was nice to see everyone getting along with Sharon, even if they were bonding over ridiculous drinking games.

A chorus of 'me too's' came from the table as they each grabbed for a boot. Flynn rolled his eyes, this evening was never going to end.

"Alright Flynn, I guess you're judging. Call it, Captain,"

"Good luck everyone." Sharon raised her glass in salute, "and go."

Sharon noticed from her periphery that Sánchez almost immediately took the lead, downing a fourth of his beer in record time. Unfortunately, he hadn't considered this strategy would be less than effective long-term, especially once he felt a rather large burp surfacing. Glancing over toward the middle of the booth, she noted the slow pace that Tao, Gabriel, and Provenza were taking. In fact, she wasn't very sure Mike had actually touched his beer. He seemed to just be holding the boot to his mouth, feigning a swig or two every now and then. Finally her vision settled on Brenda, who was attacking the beer with the same single-minded focus she reserved for devouring ding-dongs. Sharon refocused on the task at hand, there was no way she'd let the boys beat her, especially at a bet she'd suggested.

"Mike, you might as well give up now," suggested Flynn.

"I'm out, I don't even like beer anyway." Gabriel followed Tao's lead, laying his glass on the table in defeat.

"You kids have fun, I'm too old," Provenza confessed. At least he'd made a positive showing, unlike other members of the squad.

5 minutes later, it was still incredibly unclear who would win. The three had all fallen into a more sedate pace, allowing their stomach's time to adjust. Brenda started to fall behind, unable to keep up with Sharon and Julio. Resigning herself to a loss, she set down her beer and joined the rest of Major Crime's in cheering on the final two. They were both down to the last few swigs of beer.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but the Captain takes it," Flynn exclaimed.

"So Shar, as winner, what will we be doin' for you?"

"Well, perhaps we could all halt with the wicked witch drawings for the next week or two? Oh, and we'll be having a rematch next Friday, same time, same place, against FID. I expect all of you to be here on your best behavior." Sharon gave the boys a signature smirk - she might be the underdog, but she knew she'd gained a little respect.


End file.
